Tiers Two: Judgment Day

A couple of top tier quickies - films whose inclusion are hardly groundbreaking.

Withnail and I

This isn't even a remotely unusual choice, and so there is little I can say that isn't already known. In short, a story deeply tragic, yet uproarously hilarious, which maintains a constant texture to its dialogue, with not a line off target. Its true strength, though, is in the depth of its observation and reflection, which taps a much deeper vein of pathos than is usual of farce.

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Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark

Another craftsman's film, like Chinatown, and like others I've yet to list; films in which every aspect has been neatly crafted to mesh as an elegant, solidly constructed whole. In this case Lucas and Spielberg had their eye on cinema as a medium of entertainment, and they produce a piece with fun pouring from its truly cinematic workings. A beautiful score, superb setpieces (that have become film history), humour and adventure that rose straight out of a nostalgic awareness of the producers' own childhood joys.
Harrison Ford - almost skipped over - is a gift to the film, making Jones definitively his own. Much of the series' charm comes from its eponymous hero, because he's a hero for the underdog. Succesful and smooth at the right times, he's also at times acutely fallible, clumsy and oblivious in a sympathetic way unique among action heroes. In addition, that he is in his day job a professor and lecturer, who relies on knowledge and intelligence as much as he does his fists (nearly), he is far more a hero for the nerd generation that relishes in the films than the likes of Bruce Willis.

Tiers of a Clown

So, in one of the many houses of reputable conversion I frequent, there came the discussion of films, and our personal 'best' canon. This led to me telling an interested participant that I would blog about my 'Top Ten' movies. But I don't have ten, so let's call it my 'Top Tier' movies instead. One thing that became apparent as I was running through titles in my mind is that there are a whole swathe of fantastic movies that sit JUST outside the boundary. I may only have 8 or so classics, but there's probably about 25 near-classics. On with the list!

Primer



This is a movie that will make you think. Like a cleverly structured puzzle box, it has many interlocking pieces that need turning over in your mind, sliding aside to free others. Shane Carruth pretty much came out of nowhere with his idea for a story about discovery and invention, and the people unprepared for it. He takes no prisoners, with extremely colloquial, naturalistic, elliptical dialogue, even when key plot information is disclosed. Nobody here is talking for the audience's benefit. And when combined with phenomenally natural performances - from guys who have never acted before - the effect is incredible. It is real in a way no other film captures. But it's challenging to keep up.

Add to that a plot where great swathes of cause and effect have ceased to exist, are never shown on screen, and have to be grasped through extrapolation, and you have a challenge. You cannot relax with Primer. You could not watch films of this kind all the time, without being a savant. But when you want something that will occupy every strand of your mind for hours longer than its running time, Primer is the film. As my brother said, it's a 4 hour film in 70 minutes.

It's not a cold, cerebral affair, though. Carruth came into the project to make a film about two guys, and their relationship. Their trust and friendship, and how it is affected by a paradigm shift in their reality. Again, no concessions are made to the audience. There's no soliloquys, no impassioned speeches writ large, no swelling orchestral score. But for all that, the subtle, understated emotion is truer, and more affecting.

It's also beautifully shot and produced, all by Carruth, who is apparently Leonardo Da Vinci reincarnate. I give it the highest recommendation, but only if you want a film you have to put effort into to get enjoyment back. And don't seek out plot information before you watch - It's not a twist ending film or anything of that kind, but it's about growing discovery and dawning realisation, and this atmosphere is perhaps hurt even more by spoilers than any shock twist would be.

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Chinatown


Chinatown is pretty much a perfectly constructed movie. It's a plot movie, all about the story, but it perfectly crafts every aspect - visuals, sound, pace, performance - to tell that story in the most compelling way possible.

That story is a great one. A truly cinematic story, that gives itself over to powerhouse performances of its characters and striking visualisations of its bleak landscapes. It's a story about the brutality of those with power to those they hold power over - brutality more subtle and more destructive than physical violence - and an unanswered question about those who turn a blind eye, all symbolised by Gittes' old Chinatown beat that gives the film its name.

It is not, however, a relentless film. It's a film that finds warmth where it can in a cold and cruel world, and seizes it - and the warmth between Gittes and Mulwray triumphs over its context in a truly, ah, warming way. It has humour too, particularly in the wry observations and actions of Gittes himself.

Nicholson lives up to his reputation in the role of the PI who knows he should look the other way for his own sake, but can't beat his own good nature. I have seen neither the Shining or Cuckoo's Nest, but this, at least is a performance worthy of remembrance.

Faye Dunaway gives as good as she gets as Mulwray, and there is genuine energy in the scenes between her and Gittes. Their relationship goes through a vast sequence of twists and turns, and at every point the progression feels true and the place they are at resonates.

John Huston appears fleetingly, like Lecter in Silence of the Lambs, and also like that performance, he is vividly memorable and a dominant performance in just brief appearances. A compelling moral study, he is abhorrent, perhaps a monster, but one understands that he simply does not see the world the same way as we do. He is no monster in his own eyes. Huston provides a window onto understanding of that morality, and is intriguing for it.

I won't enumerate more cast members. There really is no dropped ball. The cast is as universally strong as the production. It's all about the story, and the story is superb, but the immense strength of every element behind it is what gives it such impact.

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I have more movies to discuss, but I realised how long this was getting, so I'll do it in several installments. Be on the lookout for the next thrilling edition!

If You Believe There's Nothing Up My Sleeve

Moon slipped by the popular consciousness rather quietly; I'm not even sure what it was released against, but it didn't make any big news. It got a few mumbles because director Duncan Jones is David Bowie's son, but these were mostly years ago, when it was first gathering momentum. As such it joins a pantheon of low-budget, high-concept, under-the-radar sci-fi movies that are really, really good.

Whilst not quite a one man show, Sam Rockwell is at the center of events, and the film's success rests on his shoulders. It must have been a treat of a part to get, providing some unique challenges, and Rockwell rises to them admirably, allowing one to become entirely embroiled in the conceit of the story. It's not always the most subtle of performances, but it's real and slightly, surprisingly, heroic. By the end Sam has not only our sympathy, but our cheers.

None of which is to dismiss Kevin Spacey, whose contribution is more understated, but wholly neccesary and pitch-perfect. In a manner which will remind the majority of HAL 9000, he imbues the robotic Gerty with just a hint of constrained emotion.

Gerty itself is a total coup on Jones' part. Whilst most will focus on Rockwell's character, there's is a great depth of interest in his mechanical companion. The design is ingenious: A chunky boom arm suspended from ceiling rails, with effector arms on seperate units, there is no semblance of humanoid silhouette at all. A tiny little LCD screen is the token attempt to create a human bond, displaying a smiling emoticon which briefly flashes other symbols when it wishes to express something. Whether Gerty is nothing more than a machine with a contrived display of humanity, or whether the strained companionship represents something human which is constrained by its medium, is an intriguing question.

Still, fascinating as it is, the question is essentially a sideshow, whilst the plot proper is concerned with Sam. There's not a great deal of story - it could be summed up in a paragraph - instead Jones is content simply to set up his concept and follow it as it unfolds, with events only falling into a more paced narrative toward the end. It's exploration and character examination, not SF thriller.

It's also pleasingly, if mildly, subversive. Halfway in, the film has a very familiar feel to it; it might almost seem like a pleasing blend of derivations, a variation on an old theme. But then threads go in unexpected directions. Not shockingly so - This isn't a Christopher Nolan flick - but enough to be refreshing.

Indeed, that is the ultimate feel of Moon - Not shocking or extreme, never coming on strong, but content to be subtle, and to subtly wander into interesting areas. Refreshing is a good description. This tonality is carried through into direction and production. The film is beautiful and serene. This is a good niche for Jones to be carving, and I await his next eagerly.

9/10

Shutter Your Face

I saw Shutter Island at last on Thursday night, through a funk of sickness. It is a good movie - good, but not great. Where it succeeds is in its visuals, texture, and performances. I have not seen Scorsese and DiCaprio's other projects, but on the basis of this they seem like a strong pair, and I'm now inclined to check out both Gangs of New York and the Departed.

DiCaprio makes the film, and, I think it is fair to say, in places he carries it. It's been a good year for him, and though Island is nothing like as good a film as Inception, DiCaprio's performance is actually better. Nolan's film did not offer him the time to decompress the character as he does here. Indeed, to an extent Teddy's character may be the point of the film.

It's odd the DiCaprio would choose to make this movie back to back with Inception, so similar are the roles. I am given to assume that he has a particular penchant for these characters who are in some way disconnected from reality, as was also a facet of Abagnale and Hughes. To be sure, he's good at playing them.

Ben Kingsley is also superb as the doctor who does not judge his criminally insane patients, and whose caring is shown through a very firm hand. At times he has to be the villain, at times to suggest a sinister edge, but at other times he needs to show a genuine caring. A tricky line, but one he walks well.

Mark Ruffalo adds the final element as DiCaprio's partner, Chuck. It's the sort of performance that will probably be overlooked, as it never steals any scenes from the other two, but it's a strong and credible showing which provides a solid third column for the piece.

It's the plot that prevents greatness being achieved. I can imagine that in novel form it may have been a stronger affair, but as presented on the screen, it's flawed. For one thing, the film is immensely predictable. Within the first five minutes, most of the audience will know exactly where the next two hours are going. Yet it maintains a sort of half-hearted pretense of playing with the audience, and at the end of the time you wonder whether you were ever meant to be decieved. The red herring plot threads - clearly evident as such even as they play out - seem to lack a point. In fact, events are so predictable, that I wonder if this was actually Scorsese's destination, or whether his actual goal was not the 'reveal', but that final line shared between Teddy and Chuck. Without that scene, the film would feel rather empty, but with it, it retroactively reinvests the film with some meaning, and a rewatch, treating the film as a study of Teddy, with the outcome in mind, and focussing on the way in which he interacts with and judges the other patients, may disclose some of the obfusticated point of the earlier scenes. If nothing else, it is in that final scene that the performances hit their highest notes.

So, anyway, like I said, good, but not great. Worth seeing once, at least, and maybe twice, particularly for the feel of the thing and for DiCaprio. 8/10

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Also watched Magnolia, which I have had kicking about the place on DVD for years now. It's hard to find a time when I feel like sparing 3.5 hours, you know? Anyway, having settled to watch it the other night, lights off in the settling twilight, I was initially enjoying it a great deal. It certainly has a brilliant opening. Paul Thomas Anderson claims to have structured the film after the Beatles' track A Day in the Life, with its swelling peaks and crescendos which build, then ebb, then build again. I can certainly see the similarity. My problem with it is that it feels like one swell too man. It's being asked to emotionally invest one too many times, so by the end I felt a little bit of apathy. Certainly for the first 1:45 of its running time it keeps things pacy, lively, and changed up enough to be exhilirating. I quote '1:45' because that's the point when the film reached its midpoint crescendo and I was enjoying it so much I checked to make sure it wasn't going to be ending soon. Well, it wasn't, but shortly after this point it descends into its deepest trough - not in terms of quality, but in terms of emotion - and it doesn't quite sustain enough flourishes of pace and style to maintain the entertainment level as it coasts through. It's a pretty bleak film, and it gets a bit bogged down on the way into that final act.

In many respects it's akin to Benjamin Button, being long and sweeping in grandeur, and attempting a meditation on life through a considerable fixation on death, as well as love. But where that film was mawkish and tawdry, Magnolia succeeds, perhaps because it is inherently more vibrant to follow a tapestry of characters for a day than to follow one for a lifetime. But also generally, Magnolia simply creates more compelling, sympathetic characters than Button with its overly idiosyncratic weirdos. In particular Tom Cruise actually bothers to do some acting as a sort of heightened version of himself, and Julianne Moore provides the strongest showing as a messed up woman breaking down as her husband dies. There really isn't a weak link in the cast, though, and it'd be ephemeral of me to name everyone in turn. I'll give one final named credit to Philip Seymour Hoffman, though, who is excellent, like he generally is (also, I recommed seeing Capote).

All that, and it has Supertramp on the soundtrack, so you know it can't be bad (Although at present I have Aimee Mann's opening rendition of One is the Loneliest Number stuck in my head). 8/10, again.

Correction

Inception IS worthy of all of its praise.

MASSIVE SPOILERS: http://tinyurl.com/354ok6k

But Can You Put Your Hands in Your Head?

So, I saw Inception on Wednesday (but there's no spoilers here). So heavily hyped has it been, I was actually quite prepared for a disappointment. Pleasantly surprising, then, to find that it was a film that deserved hype - albeit perhaps notw quite the absurd amount it has recieved.

I suppose it is this decade's Matrix, although less showy and more thoughtful than that film. It has the same high-concept/action thriller blending. It is, perhaps, too busy. I can seperate out two distinct plot threads that could have been decompressed into more elegant movies each. In fact, far more than that earlier series, here is an idea that meritted a trilogy format. Alas, this is not really Nolan's style. But even lacking that, and with the frustrating corollary that some ideas are not taken as far as one would like, it's a damned good film.

There's plenty of discussion- and thinking-fodder on offer there, but that's what everyone is talking and it doesn't need me to chime in (although I do have a personal pet theory, which I may record later). What I wanted specifically to make mention of was the visuals.

There are some jaw-dropping VFX and action sequences in the film. They're inspired both in terms of the ideas on the screen, and the thinking that has gone into their execution (I am sure some of what I saw must have been wire work, but if so it was the best damned wire work I have ever seen). And aside from this, the whole film looks superb. But here's what I really appreciate: None of it was gratuitous, for its own sake. All the action and effects were born of the concepts, and reinforced them and the story. That's really good, that's what completed the package.

It's cinematic in its truest sense - this is what cinema should be. And it may have swayed me in favour of 3D. I saw this on a pretty small screen, but wow, I would have loved to see that on an iMax in 3D.

Strongly recommended, a 9/10. (Narrowly pipped by Memento as my favourite of Nolan's films, though.)

Review Slew

This week, I 'ave been mostly eating...

Books

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay

Starts well, quite episodic, rich setting. Initially has a lightness of touch. Gets more maudlin as it goes on, finishes badly. Still probably worthwhile for anyone with an interest in the Golden Age of Comics trappings. 7/10

A Little History of the World

An interesting curio, with an odd past. Has merit, but what others herald as a 'grandfatherly' or 'magical' tone I find condescending. But then it was originally inteded for children. 5/10

Swann's Way

First book of Proust's A La Recherche du Temps Perdu. Thought I would give it a try, after hearing magnificent things about Proust. After 70 pages of the author talking about loving his mother, I changed my mind.

Now reading: The Grasshopper: Games, Life and Utopia

Anthromorphic insects from the fable of the Grasshopper and the Ant engage in Socratic dialogues to arrive at a philosophy of games (also Life and Utopia). Brilliant, enlightening.

Audio

Sherlock Holmes

The definitive adaptation. Merrison and Williams ARE Holmes and Watson. Various highlights, a few weak points. Coules' adaptations improve whilst Doyle's interest wanes, raising the bar in places (His Last Bow and Casebook). Further Adventures are fun and pitched ever so slightly in humour, rather than poe-faced duplication.

The Signalman and Other Ghostly Tales

Dickens' ghost stories, read by John Sessions. Not really the right atmosphere for bright midsummer evenings, but ripping stuff all the same. Sessions mostly hits it out of the park, though he falters a bit on the Signalman. Sound design lifts it above commercial audiobook quality, with an original suite of music included as an isolated track at the end of the colection. Still a couple of these left to listen to. Eagerly awaiting the Poe release.

Films

Primer

Amazing. Maybe the best time-travel film ever made. Possibly that comparison isn't even applicable. This isn't really even the same genre as 12 Monkeys or Back to the Future or Time Traveller's wife. More like speculative fiction. A classic, perhaps hampered only by a touch of emotional disaffection in places, but hard to say. Often this adds to the cold feel. 10/10, probably.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Mawkish and morbid. Dreary, dull, sentimental, tiresome. Overlong. Meaningless. Maybe second quarter has a good film lost in it somewhere. 4/10

Gran Torino

Feels like it should have been made in the late 80s. Tone wanders from charicature to humour to gritty drama. A bit weird. Tries to have meaning and garbles it a bit. Also, Clint Eastwood signs about a car over the end credits, which is horrifying. Not too bad, though. Just feels oddly dated. 6/10

Brazil

Aged poorly. A bit too Gilliam for its own good. Still worth a watch, but I had Gilliam-grotesquery fatigue by the end of it. Probably more impact if I had seen this before some of his others. 7/10

TV

Babylon 5

Plot runs out halfway through. Good whilst it lasts. S2 and 3 are excellent. 4 starts excellent and ends not bad, but lags in the middle. Yet to watch 5.

Games

And Yet it Moves

Subjective gravity platformer, with a really cool 'torn paper world' theme. It's high on atmosphere, and there's some really good quality platforming. It has one real flaw, which is that it lacks the feel of smooth control that makes the best platformers so immersive. It's a bit twitchy and finnicky, and you can't help but think it'd be even better if you could pull some mad jumps off. You'll forgive it this after you see the genius of the levels, though. Especially after the snake bite... It has another flaw, external to the game itself - for a game of this length (~4 hours tops, unless you really dig the time trials) its price point is way too high (I got it on offer). 8/10

Jade Empire

Refreshingly different to the usual Bioware RPG mould. All the core elements are there except the combat, but everything is pared down to its essence, and this elegance is carried over to a slick action combat system. It has flaws - some lazy port issues with the controls, a system which sometimes crosses from elegance to oversimplicity, and the plot is not as rich as some of their other titles - but still a game with a much defter touch than, say, Mass Effect.

Mass Effect

Well, now you mention it... I sunk about ten hours into it. Maybe less. At first it felt lovely and cinematic. Then the shitty AI and shitty UI and artifical difficulty and dull writing and bored voice acting cut in. Bleh. 4/10

Shatter

A revelatory update of arcade game Arkanoid (that's the one with the blocks and the paddle). You wouldn't have imagined there was this much scope, but Sidhe have polished it to a mirror shine. Pretty damned compelling. No real negatives to the game itself, only the fact its limited in its breadth. 7/10

Bionic Commando: Rearmed

Not the new one, the update of the arcade/NES game. Sidescrolling platforming centred around grappling hook acrobatics. Very slick, quite a lot of depth, with a range of weapons, enemies and powerups, hidden areas, challenge rooms and some nonlinearity. Difficulty is pretty high, as it was with all games of that era. Way more than a port, the updates to this game are marvellous. Also, it's quite pretty. 8/10

The Misadventures of P.B. Winterbottom

Temporal puzzle platformer which manages to have surprisingly little in common with Braid. Hampered a little by excessive cut-rate Suess humour and a lame attempt at Britishness. Still manages to be engaging at times. Meanwhile, all other aspects tick along nicely. The silent movie trappings, visual and auditory, are a treat. The gameplay is blended close to perfection, with the platforming element not totally subsumed by the puzzles. Puzzles, meanwhile, range from easy to moderately challenging, and the curve is well paced. Quite a lot of variations on the theme are thrown up, rather than relying too heavily on any one idea. Perhaps this has been taken too far - there is room for more levels with the existing mechanics. It is quite short; the main game is probably sub-three hours if you don't get stuck too much. Still, there's a healthy dollop of extra challenge levels which should add another one or two hours. At £3, that's a steal. 8/10

Puzzle Dimension

A subjective gravity/pathfinding puzzler. It's got a good chunk of levels, a good chunk of ideas, and a good difficulty curve. It doesn't do anything surprising or new, though. Just a good, solid puzzler. 7/10

The Dig

Still playing this one. It's a Lucasarts point and click game made my Spielberg. Not as good as the Indy ones, still good.

Aquaria

Underwater Metroidvania. The usual vocabulary of abilities is rendered irrelevant by movement in all four directions. Instead, a complement of special transformations and abilities is implemented off a pleasing musical system. Another highly polished indie game, and a fine example of the genre, I'm still playing this one.

Alien Swarm

Valve's new freebie is a mash up of Left 4 Dead and Space Hulk. The fun potential is high, and I'm eager to get some friends involved.

Shock and Awe

Recent(ish) entertainments:

Bioshock - Nothing I have to say hasn't been said. Bioshock has been discussed to death. I agree with the prevailing opinion. This is the best piece of game storytelling I have ever seen. The vision is utterly coherent and manifests in every aspect of the game. The theme is intriguing; the dichotomy of moral and amoral self-interest is a refreshingly new backdrop. The characters are some of the best realised in gaming. Andrew Ryan is one of the best characters in anything. Fascinatingly nuanced, you could discuss him for hours. He passes through idealistic nutjob to moustache-twilring villain to something tragic and almost heroic. The gameplay is rich, too, and shouldn't go unmentioned, letting you tailor your own style quite pleasingly. The only off-note is that silly hacking game.

Lord of War - Odd film. Speaks of executive meddling, I think. It seems to be a mish-mash of different styles, never sure what it wants to be. Ultimately it's a sort of sardonic parody of the arms trade, but it wavers between wanting to play things straight, or amping up the ridiculous elements. The early film is the best, with 80s tunes and snappy pacing, the later parts are never quite so entertaining. There's something moderately enjoyable here, but it's a strange beast. As with Truman and Gattaca, Niccol has at least produced a polished looking piece. Also, it's a Nick Cage film, so you can probably decide whether you'll enjoy it or not based purely on that.

Carter Beats the Devil - Reading this, I was put in mind of Chinatown and the Illusionist. That's no bad thing for what is essentially a noir story about magicians. Despite the touchpoints, it largely feels like its own thing, though, with a distinct atmosphere maintained throughout.
The historical backdrop is very well researched, and you can see this has informed the setting throughout; the San Francisco of the story was very clearly defined in my head by the time I was done. Perhaps even better realised is the world of the stage magicians, and it was a wise choice on Gold's part to play them straight. Rather than try and mystify the nature of the magic shows, he lays out plainly the reality going on backstage. It sets the story apart from the other little clump of stage magic stories from the past few years, which all sought to embellish and fancify the art. In fact, learning what really went into the tricks, you get a far more genuine respect for the guys that did this stuff. Plus, I'm a sucker for historical factual content in my fiction.
Gold has a pretty good mind for characters, and the novel is well populated, but it's true that all the characters are fairly similar in their lifestyles and philosophies. When Gold branches out from the circle of people around Carter, his characters are a bit more charicature, as with the Treasury agents.
It's a good story, anyway. It has a slightly melancholy atmosphere, but punctuated with more upbeat moments that prevent it growing dreary. It does sort of meander, with an odd pacing, and soemtimes it's not entirely clear what things are moving towards. This is, I think, at least partially intentional. The structure of the story evokes a magic trick.
Therein lies the main flaw of the story, though. The story stumbles at the climax. I found myself expecting a grand revelation, but in fact the threads are untangled and stitched up at quite a leisurely pace. The ending also feels a bit sprawling, and in need of tightening up, so ultimately the last few chapters are a mite underwhelming. It's undermined through no fault of its own by skewing in very similar directions as the Illusionist in the last few chapters, too, which is unfortunate. Nonetheless, it's a good book with a great setting and a distinctive feel.
(Sidenote: It's also a book that's been rather heavily hyped, and I don't think this is to its benefit. Much like Carter himself, it is a book which wants its audience to expect little from it.)

Anathem - Wow. This is an amazing book. Speculative fiction at its most speculative. Not just predicated on a single 'What if?', the book keeps asking questions, preparing you for the next one along. It weaves together myriad theories from philosophy and the sciences, throwing in commentaries on a vast array of subjects, a whole fictional world system and clever linguistical flourishes. The depth of material here is astounding; it's a cornucopia of fascinating ideas and concepts, both real-world and fictional.
Astoundingly, Stephenson manages to deliver these ideas with great accessibility. Expecting a heavy read I was surprised just how deftly the themes and concepts are spun out. Stephenson, I suspect, has great clarity of mind, and this comes out in his writing.
The danger with high-spec fiction is that it becomes a series of ideas with no real narrative. Here, though, there is a hugely compelling story. A strong plot gives a solid through line driven by a series of intriguing mysteries, whilst a myriad smaller character arcs and sub stories spin out from it. It's an incredibly detailed word, and Stephenson mines it for compelling story material.
The other danger of such stories is that they will be dry. More than anything that was my expectation for this story. I'm fine with that, though. Brilliant concepts can hold my interest alone. What I didn't expect was the great emotional heart of the novel. Not only is it one of the most cerebrally stimulating books I've read, I was blindsided by just how much feeling there is in it. Certain moments in particular evoked more of a reaction than I am used to getting from a book. The characters are beautifully realised, and even whilst balancing his grand conceptual narrative, Stephenson never fails to devote just as much importance to their loves and hopes and dreams. A great deal of very real humour, pathos, tragedy and fear comes from the strength of the characters.
Perhaps the greatest feat is the way Stephenson has used every element to reinforce every other. An example: The protagonist worries a lot about the future. His teacher seeks to comfort him, but also to educate him. He engages him in a discussion about the future, and his worries, and begins asking why he should worry about some things, and not others. As the discussion goes on it evolves into a theoretical conversation about the ability of the human mind to assess potential futures. Instead of the character beats and the theoretical content treading on each others toes, they're feeding back and forth in a way that flows gloriously.
Along with If On a Winter's Night a Traveller... and The End of Mr Y, this is one of three books I consider to be on a tier above all other books I've read.

Nothing to Report

No news is not good news. No news is merely no news, and it gives me nothing to write about. Here is some minutae:

In writing:

A second serving of ephemeral pulp fantasy is available here.

Not content with driving to me distraction with script pitches, Big Finish are now soliciting short stories for a compilation Doctor Who short story audiobook. I have one idea already I am about to start work on.

In gaming:

Finished Star Wars: Jedi Knight. It's got a reputation as a classic and it's one it deserves. This is a game that is fantastically enjoyable nearly decades later. It shines on level design, pleasantly reminiscent of the Half-Life series, whilst its weapon set is brilliantly well balanced and the force power element lives up to the expectations of a game with the premise 'Play as a Jedi'. Secrets and a well implemented RPG system give it replay value. The live action cutscenes are pretty lame, but they're simply of their time and they have a certain charm.

Started Max Payne. Stuck on it at the moment, but far enough in to acknowledge that the hardboiled noir pastiche vibe is absolutely inspired. The gameplay, with it's then-uncliché bullet time gunfights is entertaining and pretty slick, though a bit repetitive for my tastes. I intend to finish it if I can get through this one hair-tearing part.

Currently halfway through Bioshock. This will get a full-on rambling write up when I'm finished, but suffice to say it is already cemented as an all-time classic in my mind, and THE best example of game storytelling I have ever seen.

In reading:

Don't laugh, but I'm reading a comedy thriller by Boris Johnson. It's actually highly amusing, and crying out for a screen adaptation. How much of it was written by Boris is of course debatable. Curiously, its biggest detractors appear to be Boris' fans.

In watching:

Newswipe is as good as ever, if not even better. This is the best of Brooker's shows, surpassing the flawed Gameswipe (Brooker may have cut his teeth on games coverage, but he is still out of touch), and bettering Screenwipe by being less ephemeral, and having some real gravity underlying its points.

In the Loop - Anyone who enjoys The Thick of It will of course enjoy this. But it is more than just The Thick of It writ large. The American story is as big as the British one, preventing it becoming Malcolm Tucker goes to Washington. Instead both sides are given equal billing, and whilst there are obvious parallels between them, the Americans have a different vibe and a different story to the British. And of course, it is as hilarious as it has ever been. It's not just Malcolm reeling of the quotable lines, either. Every character gets some really shining notes. My favourite quote might come from Addison (playing essentially a slightly nastier version of Olly): "You speak entirely in parables. You're like a crap jesus." Even Malcolm, the only crossover character (Toby is similar, but distinct, from Olly) is not just a retread of the Thick of It ground, as Capaldi saw fit to try and take him in a new direction for his story in the film, and we see a less secure, shark-in-the-pool Malcolm.

And that is the news as it stands at 18:41.

Crepuscular Squirrel Sandwich

Tweaked the blog a bit to make it look more polished. Made myself a banner in photoshop just to amuse myself. Good source images of notepads are unexpectedly hard to find, so I took a reference photo myself. Maybe I will upload it to wikisource and rectify the paucity of such images on the internet. Tried to hack the template around a bit and realised my fragmentary grasp of CSS had completely deserted me. Might see about learning it again, but if I'm going to study some code I'd probably be better served finishing up learning C++, before I lose the notes I was taking before Christmas and have to start again. Come to think of it, I don't know if I can even find the resource I was learning from. For the moment, though, I am quite happy to fill my days with reading, writing, and ar- and video games.

A quick review:

Burn After Reading - Coen Brothers' comedy of errors. Not quite so funny the second time around, but still frequently hysterical, especially towards the end. Brad Pitt is the heart of it and Clooney the bread and butter, but no real weak links. Probably the best scenes feature JK Simmon's CIA official trying to make sense out of a series of insignificant events which have been inflated beyond all importance. Not very deep stuff, but pretty funny.

And now, an early night beckons me; I have been up since 1:20 am.

Stop Writing! I Need More Time!

A friend of mine once gave an anguished cry of 'Stop filming, I need more time!' as a stack of DVDs mounted up so high they threatened to cause an avalanche and bury him alive. I'm experiencing much the same with books, at the moment. I bought six more at the weekend, in Waterstones' 'Books of the Decade' 3-for-2, and I could easily have bought nine. The papery precipice of tomes is looming dangerously, and not aided by my chelonially slow reading pace. I have something like 10 books on my immediate reading list, and on top of that, I really want to read Red Seas Under Red Skies (the Locke Lamora follow-on) before the third book in that series comes out later this year. Plus, I really want to avail myself of my brother's comic collection, but each time I finish a book, some internal snobbery forces my hand toward the next 'proper' grimoire in lieu of a 'lesser' comic book. Well, enough of that; once I finish A Game of Thrones, I am going to read Planet Hulk, and my inner elitist can shut the fuck up. I am going to read a series of pretty pictures showing a large green man punching things, and that is all there is to it. After that, I will probably start on Anathem, which has floated to the top of my reading list for two main reasons: One, it looks to provide an exploration of the brilliant concepts I wanted from Thief of Time, but which Pratchett was never going to have given. Two, I fear that if I don't read it soon, Sven may forget all other words in the English language.

I have now drifted wildly far of my point.

'Stop writing!' That was it. There is more to this outcry than the fear of being overcome by mounting literary rockfaces (this has already happened; there are a myriad of books out there I will never get the chance to read). It's also a plea to the writers of serials who feel the need to revisit chapters in their writing history that are already closed.

The latest offender that has come to my attention is Jonathan Stroud, who has announced work on a fourth book about Bartimaeus. He of the Bartimaeus *Trilogy*. Now, the Bart Trilogy is something I've always admired for being an example of a perfectly constructed trilogy. It contains three self-contained stories, and also a powerful arc. Stroud clearly planned everything from the beginning, and used the trilogy structure to accomplish things that couldn't have been done otherwise. And, perhaps most astoundingly, he mounted up tension constantly until a brilliant climax which lived up to the preceding build-up. But now he's adding a fourth book. I should say at this point, I am actually quite excited for this new addition. Stroud's posts on his journal suggest he has spent a long time developing it, and I'm quite hopeful. But no matter how good it is, it will still undermine that perfect trilogy structure, and that capstone ending. Perhaps for this reason I am really hoping that this story will be distanced from the trilogy, linked mostly just by Bartimaeus, and focussing on his character, either as a prequel or a well-distanced sequel. I would actually really like a historical Bartimaeus story, building on his anecdotal footnotes, but I am trying not to get my hopes up, as there is nothing to suggest that this is what it'll be.

On the other hand, there is a book I have no hope for. You've probably heard that Eoin Colfer has produced And Another Thing, the 'final' book in the H2G2 series. Almost the opposite to Stroud's latest, AAT was actually planned for by Adams, and compiled from his notes. But it has been a long time since the other Hitchhiker novels, a time in which people had moved on - nobody was really clamouring for an addition - and besides, the novels were hardly Adams' strongest output. He bemoaned writing them in interviews, and, whilst the first two form a strong suite (notably being the ones that retell the 'traditional' Hitchhiker plot), the later ones meandered in plot and quality quite badly, providing only one really notable strand: that of the hopelessly doomed Agrajag.
Plenty has already been said about this particular case-in-point, so I won't drag on. I would note, though, that I think it would have been much more satisfying had Adams' notes been given the same treatment as The Salmon of Doubt.

Poor Eoin, I am rather ragging on him, but here we go again. I am rather fond of the Artemis Fowl books. They're not perfect - in places contrived and marred by Colfer's eco-warrior agenda - but they are still some of the strongest children's books I've read. (I hold children's books in no lower status to any other, and have no issue comparing them alongside ostensibly 'adult' literature (though arguably neither Stroud nor Adams is), however the majority of children's fiction really is poor, and appears to have been written and published by people who DO feel it only needs aspire to a lesser standard.) Colfer invested the stories with added depth through the interweaving of Irish mythology, cryptography and real-world settings into his plots, as well as broadly-appealing humour and a good sense of character. There was also a refreshingly dark edge to the stories, something fairly rare among kid's books. Here was a kid with no role models and no friends, whose life was devoted to crime, with an almost sociopathic failure to notice consequences that didn't affect him. He's basically antagonistic throughout most of the first book, and still quite shady at times in the second (He SHOOTS HIS FATHER WITH A SNIPER RIFLE). Even in the third book, the supposedly straightened-out Artemis ultimately lets down those close to him.
You'll notice there's a clear character progression there. Again, the first three books form a coherent whole, clearly following a plan from the start. But then Colfer wrote a fourth book. It came out of nowhere and had to go to great pains to explain how it even belonged after the very ending-like ending of the third. Plus, Colfer seemed to have lost his touch with the characteristics that lifted his stories above the average. The humour was now pointedly aimed at children alone, the subtle dark touches eluded him in favour of a few grandiose gestures - unexpectedly killing a major character (spoilers) and bringing back a previous villain driven only by hate - undermined by an excessively nice-and-happy Artemis-and-friends vibe. Plus, the mythology and clever flourishes of previous stories had all but evaporated. It couldn't help but betray its nature as an afterthought, tacked on, forever doomed to live as a red-headed black step-sheep.
And even then, Colfer didn't stop. A fifth and sixth book have since followed, and a seventh coming soon. The fifth book was an improvement on the fourth, showing a return to the the strengths of the initial three, and ending on a surprisingly bleak note that hinted Colfer had a plan once again. (Artemis (with a missing finger) is skipped five years into the future, to find his friends and family all thought he was dead and have gone on in their lives without him.) It wasn't quite enough to make me read the next, however, as I couldn't shake the feeling that the series was becoming an endless episodic morass. (And it seems I'm not alone, as Colfer started making statements about how he wouldn't write any more Fowl for at least 2 years. (Two years which will have soon elapsed, and lo and behold, a seventh book is announced.))

The problem with all of these cases is not that they produce bad books. That is by no means a given, though it is often true. The issue is that they always undermine the serial that they have been tagged on to, sapping the finality of the ending and weakening the structure of the arc. I will offer this in the authors' defense, however: I don't believe that it is always a case of doing it for the money. Authors get attached to characters. It is a hard thing to never write for them again, after even a single story. Devoting time to an arc, which develops and expands characters significantly, is bound to instill a desire to keep writing for them.

And a final footnote (And another thing?): After twenty years, Dianne Wynne Jones has written a third book in the Howl's Moving Castle continuity. So why isn't she guilty of the same crime? Well, because her stories are more like individual episodes taking place within a continuity than they are constant appendices to a finished tale. Castle in the Air is only tangentially related to Howl's Moving Castle, and doesn't step on its toes. In fact, Jones' skill in producing a sequel which delivered what was expected of it as a sequel, and yet is quite a different and original story, is quite the talent. I haven't read The House of Many Ways yet, but I'm hoping she will have accomplished the same again. (Perhaps also worthy of note, the ending of Howl's Moving Castle always suggested that these characters, and the world around them, would go on having adventures, and thus the sequel did not undermine it in the same way as the above examples.)

Gosh, I need to find more words for 'undermine'.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Hm. I was made somewhat bluntly aware today of a considerable paradigm shift in my personality. I am considerably more invested in the state of things, and also more vociferous about it. Or, put another way, I have become an impotently ranting politico.

One wonders if this shift is all for the good, however. I scanned the BBC headlines earlier, and noticed it was surprisingly full of stories of nutjobs killing people, and also the tedium about Tiger Woods and Avatar. I caught myself feeling relieved and thinking 'Thank God that the morons in power haven't done something newsmakingly revolting today'. Concerning, on multiple levels. (And I still found some things to rant about.)

Things I need to blog about:

Hat Time

Dragon Age

Banning of slang

Why I want Avatar to flop